


Red Sands, Iron Sands

by ArtimusMaora



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, also known as a bunch of times sasori didn't kill the sandaime and one time he did, but that oughta be obvious, gonna preface with this ain't a healthy relationship, sasosan, sasothird, will contain explicit material in later chapters, wish Sandaime had a real name to use but hey we work with what we've got
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-11 15:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtimusMaora/pseuds/ArtimusMaora
Summary: Sasori swore that one day he would kill the man responsible for the deaths of his mother and father. One day. (Rated for violence and non-explicit sexual content.) Cover image by shipcat!!





	1. Red Sands, Iron Sands

The first time Sasori met him face to face was the day he swore he would kill him. The Third Kazekage, the man who had been responsible for sending his parents to war. For their deaths. For Sasori’s loneliness. For the hollow ache he felt in every waking moment. He swore to make the man pay, to make him feel the same pain Sasori felt.

But when he cornered him alone that night, after months of learning his patterns and planning, he didn’t even have the decency to look afraid. Sasori’s blade was at his neck, the glint of poison bright on the steel, and he regarded Sasori with almost maddening patience.

“You’re one of mine, aren’t you?” He asked, golden eyes boring into Sasori’s grey-brown. “The puppet corps.”

“I am no one’s.” Sasori spat in return, grasp on the blade tightening. “Thanks to you, there’s no one for me to belong to anymore.”

“Sasori.” He said the name like it was an old memory that had just managed to resurface. “That’s right, I know you now. That’s not true, is it? You have a grandmother, if I recall.”

“In name only.” Sasori hissed. He wanted to just slit his throat and get it over with, but on the other hand, what good was killing the Kazekage if he didn’t know why he had to die? He’d stretch his patience a minute longer. “The old woman is a coward and a fool who won’t acknowledge her own failures.” Her own errors with Sasori.

The Third barely nodded, looking as though he’d just been told a mildly interesting bit of trivia. “I see. And you seek revenge on me for that?” His indifference to the situation was infuriating.

“For the loss of my mother and father.” Sasori’s anger flared again. “Because of your war, they lost their lives. I lost everything.”

“And you think you were the only one, do you?” Sandaime challenged- a bold move for someone with a poisoned blade to their throat. “I lost my own father in battle, long before you were born I imagine.”

“I’m not a child.” Sasori bristled. “I’m old enough to remember their faces, their promises to come back. The promises they never kept because of you.” If his hand shook, he blamed it on the tightness of his grasp.

“Killing me won’t bring them back, Sasori.” Sandaime shook his head just the smallest amount. “Put the blade down. You won’t kill me.”

“You think I won’t?” Sasori challenged roughly, pressing the blade harder against his skin- not hard enough to pierce it, but hard enough that the Kazekage looked just a little uncomfortable. “I’ve done things far worse than slitting a man’s throat.”

“I know you have; I’ve heard about how you turned the sand red with blood in the name of Sunagakure.” Sandaime was familiar with Sasori’s exploits, even if it took him a moment to place his face.

“I didn’t do it for Suna- I did it to test my own power.” Sasori denied sharply.

“And your power is considerable. But you won’t use it to kill me tonight.” Sandaime had the gall to lift a hand and grasp Sasori’s wrist. So focused on their conversation had Sasori been that he had hardly noticed the flecks of iron black sand creeping upward. They abruptly gained his attention when they coalesced into a black band around the kage’s throat, blocking the blade of Sasori’s kunai.

Sasori cursed and wrenched his hand away, berating himself for allowing his focus to lapse. Stupid, stupid, rookie mistake- he’d gotten distracted with talk and had missed his chance to make a quick end of things.

A pace away now, he drew another blade as the pitch black sand slithered and swirled around the Kazekage’s hand, now resting loosely at his side. “I don’t blame you for feeling anger, Sasori. I understand your pain. But if you’re going to come after me and try to end my life, you’re going to need more than a kunai to do it.”

Sasori inched slowly away from him, eyes narrowed. Indoors as they were, his puppetry was limited by the space of the room. He’d come prepared for a sneak attack, not a full fight. “I’m not going to give up, you know. You will die.”

“We all will. But not tonight.” The Kazekage made no move to stop Sasori as he backed away. “Next time, try harder.”

Sasori didn’t grace him with a response, seething as he slunk away to concoct a better strategy that didn’t rely on him holding his nerve next time.

-

True to the Kage’s advice, the next time Sasori made an attempt on the Kazekage’s life, he tried harder. He had three of his puppets flanking him as he shoved him against the wall outside a building. His knife was against the Kage’s chest, and he was flushed from the exertion and the excitement of pinning him.

“Sasori.” The Kazekage greeted him smoothly, a hint of a smirk on his features. “You brought backup this time, I see.”

“I don’t like waiting for anything- least of all my revenge.” Sasori grunted, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Your delay last time put me in something of a bad mood.”

“Really? Today doesn’t seem like anything worse than the other day.” Sandaime’s smirk was full fledged now. “When I saw you at the meeting yesterday, I thought you would at least say hello.”

Sasori didn’t want to admit that he’d been concerned about the Kazekage taking action for his attempted assassination. Instead he responded, “Are you always so calm with your assassins?”

“Only when they don’t actually assassinate me.” The kage’s golden eyes glinted with what Sasori could only term amusement. “I read up on you after our last encounter, Sasori. You have quite the reputation for viciousness- it strikes me odd that this is the greatest effort you can muster for me. Am I not worth the hassle?”

His wry tone made Sasori’s blood boil. “Hardly.” He snarled, the Black Ant puppet behind him rattling ominously as his chakra flared. “You didn’t even know my name before I came to you the first time.”

“I knew your name, not your face.” Sandaime clarified, still far too calm for a man surrounded by deadly puppets and a pissed-off puppeteer. “Now I know both. Are you happier that I know that, before you intend to kill me?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else you would like to get off your chest, then?” He had the air of a therapist, patiently prodding their charge for personal details.

“I’ve prepared a special poison just for you,” Sasori revealed, unable to keep the satisfaction from his voice. “One that will seep through your limbs and paralyze you, and fill your veins with fire like you’ve never felt before. The burning pain will make you wish I had simply killed you where you stood.”

“So I am worth some effort after all.” Sandaime snorted his amusement, shaking his head. “Well, that’s a comfort. I’m honored the famous poison-maker thought me special enough to employ a custom blend.”

“You get to enjoy a particularly painful death, yes.” Sasori snapped, eyes narrowed to slits. “But it won’t be quick. Do you know what I do with my victims, _Lord_ Third?” He spat the epithet mockingly. How he hated being so short at times like this- the difference in height had him gazing up at the Kazekage like a petulant child.

“I’ve heard rumors, poppet, but never witnessed your work firsthand.” Sandaime shook his head again, smirk still twisting his lips. “Enlighten me.”

Oh, the nickname made Sasori see _red_. “I turn them into works of art worthy of my name.” He hissed, lifting his free hand to press it to the Kazekage’s chest. “I take my favorite specimens and strip the skin from their bones,” he traced a line down his chest where he usually made his incisions, “cut out the very essence of the self and make it _mine_. Mine to bind to an everlasting puppet body, mine to control and use as I please.”

“And you’d do me the honor of making me yours?” The wretched bastard didn’t even have the presence of mind to look horrified at what Sasori was implying.

“Your Magnet Release kekkei genkai would serve me well, yes.” Sasori would be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping for the Kazekage to at least look uncomfortable at the thought of being converted into a human puppet- he’d been imagining the look of revulsion twisting his features, and being deprived of it irritated him. “One of the most powerful I’ll have collected to date.”

“Well, then I’m thankful to have you on Suna’s side, and not as an enemy.” The Third smiled, taking Sasori’s hand from his chest and holding it loosely instead. “But as I’ve said before, I won’t let you kill me. Your heart can’t really be in such a relaxed attempt, can it?”

“What do you know of my heart?” Sasori challenged, not flinching an inch from the contact. “Perhaps this is part of my plan, to lure you into a false sense of ease.”

“Is it? Then what’s the next stage of your plan?” Sandaime stroked his thumb over Sasori’s palm.

“To get what I want.” Sasori pulled his hand away and stepped back, stowing his kunai and withdrawing his puppets with a twitch of his fingertips. “You’ll see me again.”

“At a briefing of our troops?” Sandaime remained leaning against the wall as Sasori retreated.

“The day of your death, with a blade in your chest.”

“If it’s as successful as your other attempts, I look forward to it.” Sandaime’s mockery was answered with silence- Sasori was gone.

-

As expected, Sasori’s next attempt wasn’t for a few weeks. The two of them had a few chance encounters during the meantime- Sandaime had smiled knowingly at Sasori, who had returned nothing but a flat expression. His dark eyes betrayed nothing, and if it hadn’t been for their late-night encounters the Kazekage wouldn’t have thought anything of it.

But there they were, in the entryway of the Kazekage’s residence. Sandaime had to congratulate Sasori on his stealth- he had come up behind him silently, pressing a blade to the hollow of his throat the moment the Kage locked his door. He was currently facing the door in the dim room, Sasori scarcely a foot behind him with one hand braced on his shoulder and the other holding the knife to his neck.

“You managed to infiltrate my home- you’re skilled.” Sandaime acknowledged readily, feeling Sasori’s gaze burn into the back of his head like acid.

“We’ve established that.” Sasori’s tone was clipped and restrained, as level as the hand holding the blade to Sandaime’s skin. “We’ve also established that I want you dead.”

“Yes, we have. And that you’ve abandoned that goal twice.” Sandaime knew he could easily call for aid; an intruder in the Kazekage’s home would be swiftly dealt with. But he wasn’t concerned. “Forgive me for not believing you won’t make it a third.”

“Third time’s the charm.” Sandaime didn’t have to see him to know Sasori was scowling. “I have it all planned out, now- I’ve refined my poison, tweaked it to perfection. I can take your corpse and be miles from the city before the first rays of light hit the sand.”

“A good goal.” The blue-haired man agreed, turning his head slightly to gaze at him over his shoulder. “You would have the entirety of the Kage’s guard forces after you, so a quick retreat would be wise.”

“They’d never know it was me.” Sasori scoffed with a shake of his head. “Officially, what connection do you and I have? Little more than any other soldier.”

“True, but when you turn up as missing, I doubt they’ll see it as just a coincidence,” the Kage replied as though this was normal conversation. “I would make a quick disappearance if I was in your shoes.”

“Oh, I plan to.” Sasori smirked at that, beautiful and deadly. “I can’t tell you how it thrills me, thinking of what I can do with your iron sand at my command. All for myself.”

“That excites you, does it? Adding me to your collection?” Sandaime asked in a level tone, keeping his gaze fixed on Sasori’s face.

“Immeasurably.” The redhead breathed, eyes shining as leaned up on his toes a little to murmur closer to his ear. “As my puppet, you’ll have a chance to make up for what you’ve done to harm me.” Sandaime would be his right hand, his weapon, his guardian.

“And I have no chance to make up for that now, while I’m alive?” Sandaime questioned, not daring to turn his head away. Sasori’s lashes brushed against his cheek as the smaller man pressed his chest to the kage’s back.

“That depends- are you offering?” A drop of interest colored his voice.

“That also depends on what you need.” The Third waited for Sasori’s response for several moments, but none came. Not in any change of Sasori’s breath, nor in any waver of his hand or twitch of his body.

When moments passed with no answer, Sandaime decided to take a gamble on his guess. He turned in Sasori’s grasp- the smaller man let him- and without breaking eye contact, slowly brought his hands up to rest on Sasori’s face. “This?” He asked, though the immediate shiver at the contact gave him an answer even if Sasori’s voice wouldn’t.

A slight nod of the head was the only confirmation Sasori gave- his gaze was dark, intense, unreadable. Sandaime’s movements were too slow for Sasori, apparently- the knife clattered to the floor as the younger puppet master reached up a split second later to tangle his fingers in navy hair and drag him down, their mouths crashing in a kiss that was more teeth than lips. Sasori pushed back till the Third Kazekage’s back hit the door, but he wasn’t having it. The taller man turned so Sasori was the one pinned, grasping him by the hips and hefting him off the ground to hold him against the wall with his body.

Sasori broke from the kiss to gasp out a moan at the rough contact of their bodies, deft fingers clutching at the Kazekage robes. “Haah..” His pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted- Sandaime’s guess had been right. Sasori craved touch, affection, any kind of attention. If this was how they’d manage it, Sandaime would gladly accept.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? You want me?” The Third Kazekage dipped his head to drag his teeth along Sasori’s neck, earning a shuddering breath and a nod. “Say it, poppet.”

“I want you.” Sasori hissed out, eyes sliding shut at a nip to his jaw. “Sandaime...” Sasori wasn’t the only one craving this- the beautiful man in his arms moaning his name had definitely had its effect on the Kazekage. His submission wasn’t wanton or dramatic, but it was there all the same- and he would not let such a plea go unanswered.

Sandaime all but carried Sasori to his room- their coupling wasn’t romantic or gentle, it was the torrid pace of want and need rolled into one. Sasori was a stunning work of art, shaggy hair a bloody splash against the dark sheets and pale skin cutting a sharp silhouette (marred here and there with the bruise of a bite, a scratch, a hold too firm.) His own desperate grasp on the Kazekage never ebbed, whether it was his nails carving gouges into the planes or his back, hands fisting in navy hair pulled free from its ties, or legs wrapped tight about his waist.

Even once they were both spent, sweaty and panting, Sasori stayed as close as he could. He kept Sandaime against him, maintaining the contact of their skin as he gazed up to the older man. The Third thought he could see fragments of feelings swimming in the depths of Sasori’s gaze- satisfaction, uncertainty, weariness, and a great deal more that he couldn’t hope to decipher. He gave up, reaching up to stroke sweaty red strands back from his forehead and press a kiss to his brow.

“Stay here the night.” He implored in a soft murmur. He was weary, and with the way Sasori was pressed so close he didn’t think the other nin wanted to leave.

“It would be easy for me to kill you in your sleep, you know.” Sasori pointed out, although he made no move to get up and leave. “I could just as easily snap your neck as bite your throat out.”

“I’ve had your hands on my face and your mouth on my neck plenty tonight already, and you haven’t killed me yet.” The Kazekage reminded him with a soft snort, shaking his head. “I’ll take my chances.” He shifted to ease apart from him, rolling onto his side with a sigh. He reached out an arm and pulled Sasori back over, tucking his smaller frame close to his chest despite the warmth they both still exuded. “Sleep, poppet.”

Sandaime was sure he heard Sasori grumble some protest about the name again, but he couldn’t understand what it was. The redhead just pressed his face into Sandaime’s shoulder, going still and silent for the night. Satisfied after a long day and good night, Sandaime also slept.

-

It was almost entertaining, their game of threats. Sandaime came to expect it whenever he felt the blade of a knife against his skin- the glint of ash brown eyes, whispered oaths to end his life, threats that rang hollow every time they fell into bed together. It amused him even when Sasori pulled a knife on him in the dead of night, skin turned white in the moonlight and scarlet hair kissed with silver.

“Are we really going to do this again, dear one?” The Kazekage asked, not even bothering to sit up from his position sprawled back against the sheets.

Sasori was kneeling over him, seated on his waist and bent over to touch the tip of a blade beneath the Kazekage’s chin. “Your part in this dance won’t end until you die.”

“That’s a pity- I’ve come to enjoy our dance.” Sandaime smirked up at him, lifting a hand to rest it on the redhead’s waist. He stroked his fingers along his skin, his iron sand creeping up onto the bed to scratch and slide along his back like the caress of rough hands. Sasori arched back to greet his touch, shivering despite himself.

“All dances must end. The music cannot play forever.” Sandaime had to commend Sasori’s control- his voice was as level as ever.

“No, but I can enjoy it while it lasts.” The Third raised his free hand to nudge the tip of the blade away from his neck, reaching up to thread his fingers through the tousled red hair.

“And when it ends, you’ll leave me. Just like the rest have.” Sasori didn’t respond to the hand in his hair, on his cheek, trailing down his jaw to his neck and chest.

“You sound so sure of yourself, doll. You really think so little of me?” Sandaime’s fingertips came to rest over his slow and steady heartbeat.

“I think little of humankind.” Sasori clarified. “Humans are fools who make promises they can’t keep.”

“Humans are fools for many reasons beyond that,” Sandaime disagreed, a small smile on his lips. “We desire things we know we shouldn’t. We want things we can’t have.”

“You speak like that’s a strength.” Sasori scowled down at the man beneath him.

“You speak like you aren’t human yourself.” Sandaime sat up, taking the blade from Sasori’s loose grasp and setting it aside. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“There are days I wish I wasn’t.” Sasori’s admission came out softly, muffled in the dark hair splayed over the Kazekage’s shoulders. “Things would be so much simpler if I could just... not feel.”

“Sasori, we are all human. We can’t change this.” Sandaime rubbed the small of his back, enjoying the feel of the warm body pressed so close to his.

“I bet I could.” Sasori’s eyes were dark and distant, clouded over with thought. “Humans are imperfect creatures. I could become something better.” His gaze focused on Sandaime’s face as he pulled away a little, hands coming up to stroke the dark hair back from his face. “Like the puppet you’ll become one day. Perfect, everlasting, mine.”

Sandaime had grown used to Sasori’s rambles about his art by now. He just shook his head, pressing a kiss to Sasori’s palm. “We are what we are. We cannot change this.”

“That’s what you think.” Sasori pulled his hands away, a scowl twisting his pretty face. “Just you wait.”

“I will.” Sandaime replied simply. He laid back again, pulling Sasori down with him. “But until then, I need sleep. Rest with me, poppet.” He implored.

Sasori laid down atop him, but he did not rest. “You think me delusional.” He accused, propped up on his elbows on the Kazekage’s chest. The gleam in his eyes was a dangerous one.

“I think you want to achieve the impossible.” Sandaime disagreed with a shake of his head. “We have our limits.”

“And I will exceed them.” Sasori rolled off the Third’s chest and stood from the bed, making to leave.

Sandaime got to his feet as well and grabbed Sasori’s wrist, pulling him close before he could even grab his shirt. “Please, dear one- stay.” He implored, slipping his arms around him and resting his chin atop Sasori’s head. He knew Sasori was weak to touch- by holding him close, he knew he could calm the flare of his temper.

Tonight was no different- he felt Sasori’s resistance falter and fade, and the younger man leaned into him. “You are a fool of a man, you know.” He admonished, forehead pressing into the Kazekage’s shoulder. “Coaxing your assassin back to bed.”

“I’m not concerned.” Sandaime kissed the top of his head, pulling his would-be assassin to lie back down with him. “Let’s await the coming of dawn.”

-

It was months later when Sasori shoved the Kazekage against a boulder of sandstone, far outside the edge of Suna’s city limits. Sandaime had invited Sasori to meet with him, knowing they needed to talk and that it would not be a pleasant affair. He found it difficult to say what he needed to when the red-haired scorpion smirked up at him, hands free of weaponry. “You’re late, Lord Third.”

“Apologies, my darling- you know how it is. Everyone wants to get in a quick last word in the meetings with a kage.” Sandaime replied easily, unconcerned with his position pinned to the rock. “Even in this tenuous cease-fire, I’m a wanted man these days.”

“You are. Though many may want you, only I get to have you.” Sasori’s voice dripped with smug satisfaction as he slid his hands up Sandaime’s chest, to his shoulders and up his neck to grasp at his hair. “You’re mine.” He stretched up to purr against the Kazekage’s lips before kissing him fiercely.

Any other day, the Third would have responded only too gladly. Today, however, he had to steel himself and summon his willpower to nudge Sasori back just enough so they could speak. “That’s why I needed to speak with you- these talks of setting up treaties have been taking more of my time than they deserve.”

“Don’t I know it.” Sasori respected the distance Sandaime created but refused to pull away any further. “It’s been too long.”

“It has been.” Sandaime agreed, resting his hand on Sasori’s cheek and stroking his thumb across his cheekbone. “But the talks have finally begun to wrap up and produce results.”

“And?” Sasori asked impatiently, turning his head to lean into the touch. “What does that have to do with us?”

“Well, the surrounding tribes we’ve been struggling against have agreed to band together as one.” Sandaime prefaced, gathering his willpower and subtly readying his sand. (Preparing for the worst.) “We’ve agreed that allying is our best bet at survival, and they’ve agreed to send an emissary to unite Suna and the tribes. She’s going to be my wife.”

If he had not been holding Sasori, he could have sworn the other man had stopped breathing. “You’re joking.”

“I’m serious.” Sandaime confirmed, keeping his gaze fixed on Sasori’s mask of stone. “We’ve been debating it for weeks, and that’s the only solution the council has come up with that could result in a longstanding agreement.”

“But you’re spoken for.” Sasori’s nimble hands gripped his robes tightly. “You’re _mine_.”

“Not as far as anybody else knows.” Sandaime was forced to remind him. “To the world, you and I are little more than leader and follower. And we agreed to keep our relations secret, so there was nothing I could say to the council to give them a reason I shouldn’t ally with her.”

“You’re leaving me...” His grey-brown eyes were glassy and wide, and though they stared right at his face Sandaime doubted Sasori saw him at all. “You’re leaving me.”

“Sasori, hear me out- when the emissary arrives, I’ll only have to-” Sandaime had no chance to speak- he could hardly register the threat coming before he had to jerk to the side, shoving Sasori away from himself so he could dodge. A curled, segmented tail of metal snaked from beneath the hem of Sasori’s flak jacket, the wicked tip buried in the sandstone where the kazekage had been moments before.

He didn’t have time to think of where it had come from or how Sasori had summoned such weaponry without him sensing it- Sandaime had to put distance between them so he could manifest weapons from the iron sand. “Sasori, listen to me! I have to prioritize the wellbeing of my village!”

“I’m part of that village!” Sasori snarled, his tail wrenching free from the sandstone to whip back toward Sandaime. His moves were devastatingly quick- the Third could barely materialize a barrier fast enough to deflect the tail’s blow again. When the bladed edge shot past his face, the sickly sweet scent of poison hit him like a tidal wave.

“I can’t afford to just think of you and me, I have to make sacrifices!” The kage protested, sending sharpened bolts of iron hurtling toward the puppet master. “I have no choice!” Sasori curled the tail around himself defensively, the bolts glancing off and disintegrating. Sandaime stretched out his hand and tried to call on his magnet release to yank the weapon away from him, but the metal responded sluggishly to his chakra- an alloy, then, and not a very magnetic one.

“The great Lord Third, Sunagakure’s most powerful shinobi, doesn’t have a choice?” Sasori mocked, crouched low as the tail slowly unfurled. Teeth bared in a frenzied snarl, tail curled behind him and twitching dangerously, Sasori was every inch the desert fiend he was named for. “And I’m an acceptable sacrifice?” He stalked forward, stinger stabbing forth- Sandaime leapt to the side and tried to immobilize the weapon in the sand, to fill its joints with iron grit and freeze it.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” Sandaime protested, wrenching at the weapon with all his might. He couldn’t pull it away from Sasori, but the puppet master skidded forward as it moved too. He staggered a moment before throwing himself into the movement, yanking a pair of blades from the holster on his leg and diving at the Kazekage.

He retaliated with blocks and jabs from his own sand, parrying each strike of Sasori’s kunai as they came. His hair was a backdrop of bloody scarlet, the silver of his blades and black of Sandaime’s sand hardly distinguishable for the speed they traded blows. All throughout it Sandaime could feel the accusing burn of Sasori’s gaze, as deadly as the poison he wielded. Save for the mechanical tail, the puppet master wasn’t fighting with his puppets- the Kazekage wasn’t sure whether to fear this fact or take comfort in it.

It should have been the former. Sasori didn’t need to summon his puppets to be dangerous- the Kazekage remembered this as his limbs suddenly stopped responding to his control, noticing silver threads connecting Sasori’s fingertips to him. The abrupt halt in activity gave the redhead the opportunity to lean in close. “My mother and father were sacrifices you offered for the wellbeing of this village- I don’t know why I expected _I_ would be any different.” He hissed, the venom in his words as potent as his blades.

The Kazekage didn’t get the chance to respond. Sasori’s tail, freed from the iron sand during their struggle, jerked forward to stab into his chest. The tip burst through clean to the other side of his ribcage, a rush of blood coating the shining metal and dripping to the sand below.

There was a moment where neither of them moved- Sandaime’s gaze remained glued to Sasori’s, the puppet master unblinking and unbreathing. When Sandaime coughed painfully, spitting blood onto the metal of his tail, the spell broke and Sasori rushed forward to grasp him by the arms, careful not to jostle his tail as he lowered the man to his knees in the sand. “I hit you.” His eyes were wide and scared, and while the sight shouldn’t have been funny, Sandaime choked out a laugh.

“You sound surprised, poppet. Haven’t you been telling me for months how you wanted to kill me?” He rasped, keeping his eyes trained on Sasori’s face. Such a beautiful man, his angel of death. After so many years of surviving battles and evading assassins, he was brought down by the hands of one of his own- he found it oddly poetic.

Sasori opened his mouth to retort, closed it, swallowed and opened his mouth again. No reply came and he clamped his lips shut, digging inside his pouch for a moment. Dimly Sandaime registered a vial in his hand, and then the dull prick of a needle in his outer thigh. “An antidote won’t be much use if I bleed to death.”

“Shut up.” Sasori snapped, and the Third was surprised to see his hands shake. “You weren’t supposed to die here, I didn’t- what kind of Kage are you, that a puppet master with no puppets could take you down?!” He demanded, leaning forward and pressing heavily down onto the kage’s chest. He wheezed in pain at the action, noting the blood hardly slowed. The wound was huge, and he was certain the only thing keeping him alive was the fact that the stinger remained inside him.

“That doesn’t count as a puppet?” He managed, jerking his head toward the tail buried in his ribcage. Without waiting for Sasori to answer, he laughed again. “Oh, my darling, I’m going to miss this dance of ours.”

“If you’d just dodged, you wouldn’t have to!” Sasori’s voice was almost a shout as he pressed harder, hands slick with blood. “What, was your heart not in it?” He mocked.

The Third Kazekage winced at the pressure of his hands. “My heart... belongs to Suna.” He shook his head slowly, golden gaze locked onto Sasori’s own. “And its people.” He murmured. “I have failed in the primary responsibility of a kage- to protect my people. You, your family... I have failed you.”

“What happened to atoning for it during your life, then?!” Sasori demanded, realizing full well how foolish he sounded. He had thought that seeing the Kazekage bleeding out into the sand, like so many shinobi before him, would mend the aching in his heart. And yet, with every beat of the kage’s heart that pumped the life from his veins, Sasori felt the chasm grow.

“This treaty would end our arrangement- I could no longer give you what you needed.” The Third shook his head, the movement sluggish.

Sasori growled in frustration, clutching the soaked fabric of his robes. “There had to be other ways, we could- we could still keep things a secret, hell, we could run, we could leave Suna or work out a new treaty!” He was scarcely aware of the tears that had begun to drip down his cheeks until they fell in hot splashes onto the Kazekage’s chest. “Anything, there had to have been a better way!” He knew there had to be. “Don’t leave me, please, don’t leave me too.” He was begging now and he hated it, fists shaking.

“Sasori...” The Third rested his hand over one of Sasori’s, shaking his head. “I won’t leave you, remember? You’re going to make me into a work of art.” The tone was faint and teasing- did he think Sasori had been joking about it, even now? “Remove the blade, poppet. Let me hold you.”

Sasori saw no sense in arguing with a dying man. He steeled himself and yanked the tail free from Sandaime’s chest with a twitch of his fingers, hating the way the metal sounded as it slid smoothly from his flesh.

Sandaime gasped in pain as the weapon came free, a fresh gush of blood soaking the sand below them. “Ah...” He would have fallen forward if Sasori had not caught him hastily, leaning him gingerly back to rest against the sandstone behind them. He slid into the Kazekage’s lap, shaking, and settled into his favored place, where his head could nestle right into the kage’s neck and his arms could rest comfortably around his waist. The hot, wet blood against his chest made his skin burn, and the scent of iron was overwhelming.

“There we are.” Sandaime’s voice was fading faster now, and his arms were sluggish in their rise to Sasori’s shoulders. Swallowing, Sasori reached back to use his chakra strings to aid Sandaime in lifting his arms. The man hummed his thanks, one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other cradling Sasori’s head against his shoulder. His fingers stroked Sasori’s hair in short, shaky movements, the blood on his skin and his hair the same color.

“I’m sorry.” Sasori’s words were barely audible, the apology halting and afraid. “I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want to be alone again.”

“Oh, Sasori...” Sandaime pressed his cheek to the top of Sasori’s head, fighting off a wave of light-headedness. “I don’t fault you. It’s all right.” He whispered, shaking his head and shushing him as the younger man’s tears turned to outright sobs. “I’ll be with you, poppet. Ever at your side. Don’t cry, dear one, don’t cry... I’m here...”

By the time Sasori’s sobs had stilled, he was no longer there- the corpse was silent and still, as lifeless in its hold on Sasori as his own mother and father puppets had been. The only difference was this time, Sasori had no one but himself to blame for the way the ache in his chest burned and consumed him. He lifted his head, taking in the vacant golden gaze; the arms around him lolled lifelessly to the ground; the red of the sand was turning a crusty, dry brown. Sasori squeezed his eyes shut, pressed his face back into his kage’s shoulder, and screamed.


	2. Alt End Pt. 1- Raw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate scenario where Sasori's wound wasn't fatal- going to expand on what they could have had. Likely two additional chapters, maybe three if this takes me a ways farther than I expect it to! Identical right until the part where Sasori made his final blow.

_It should have been the former. Sasori didn’t need to summon his puppets to be dangerous- the Kazekage remembered this as his limbs suddenly stopped responding to his control, noticing silver threads connecting Sasori’s fingertips to him. The abrupt halt in activity gave the redhead the opportunity to lean in close. “My mother and father were sacrifices you offered for the wellbeing of this village- I don’t know why I expected _I_ would be any different.” He hissed, the venom in his words as potent as his blades._

The Kazekage didn’t get the chance to respond. Sasori’s tail, freed from the iron sand during their struggle, jerked forward to stab at his torso. While the Third narrowly avoided a fatal hit, the tail did pierce his side. The tip just barely grazed his hip, burying itself in sandstone with a metallic clang, but the flared edge of the blade cut right through him.

“Hah!” Sandaime jerked in pain at the hit, gasping at the sting of the metal, and even Sasori seemed surprised that the attack had landed. He leaned away from him, numb, as the Third tried to wrench away from the metal buried in his side.

“I...” Another hiss of pain from the Kazekage shook Sasori from his reverie, and the wide-eyed look of surprise was replaced with an angry scowl. “What the hell?!”

“Excuse me?” Sandaime winced as the metal twitched, watching Sasori dig hurriedly into a small pouch at his waist. “Were you not expecting to-”

“Expecting for you to actually take a hit from a puppet master who isn’t using any puppets? No, I wasn’t!” Sasori scowled and jammed the needle of a small vial into the Kazekage’s thigh. “What kind of Kage are you?”

“Maybe a sentimental one.” Sandaime hissed as he felt the dull sting of the antidote to Sasori’s poison seep into him. “If someone were to bring me down, I can think of far worse people’s hands to die at.”

“Shut up.” Sasori smacked his shoulder irritably, shaking his head. “You’re not dying today, you moron.”

“Why the change of heart, poppet?” Sandaime couldn’t help but snort a little, even as Sasori leaned down to evaluate the depth of the blade’s puncture in his side.

“Because there’s got to be more we can do.” Sasori grunted, shoving the torn robes aside to press his fingers to the skin near the wound. “I’m not giving you up without a fight. If there’s nothing to be done, then I’ll kill you before I let them take you from me. But there has to be something.”

Rather than worry at Sasori’s train of thought, Sandaime just chuckled. “I’ll never understand your reasoning, dear one. But I told you already, this was the only solution the council and I could come to.” Dying at the hands of his venomous lover didn’t sound like a bad way to go, actually- he wouldn’t have to smile through a marriage he didn’t want, he wouldn’t have to make the hard decisions anymore, he wouldn’t have to inadvertently hurt people like Sasori when even his best decisions had downsides.

“That was your first mistake- not including me in the decision process.” Sasori shrugged off coolly, removing his hands from the wound and shifting his stance a little. Sandaime pretended not to notice how the young puppet master’s hands were trembling. “Like I told you, we’ll figure it out. Now, I administered an antidote to the poison, but I won’t be able to do much more than seal up the exterior of the wound to stop the bleeding. We need to get you to a medic-nin.” For all his family’s talent in medical arts, Sasori had neglected to focus his training on much more than basic first aid. It had never seemed useful before- now, he was kicking himself for not paying more attention to the prospect and resolved to learn more of it immediately.

“Yes, yes, do what you must, dear.” Sandaime leaned his head back against the sandstone, looking away from the tail embedded in his side. “But please make it quick, I’m starting to feel faint.”

“Shut up.” Sasori’s sharp tone betrayed his worry- Sandaime let him do what he needed to, clenching his teeth as the metal tugged free and a hasty hand was held above the wound to seal it with a slow burn of chakra. Once the low glow of chakra faded, he deemed it safe to look down again.

“That should be sealed enough for our journey back to Suna. Shall we?” He pushed off the sandstone wall and staggered immediately, vision blurring. A small weight immediately pressed to his uninjured side, and he shot Sasori a grateful, wan smile. “Right, thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me? I just stabbed you.” Sasori frowned, looping one of Sandaime’s arms over his shoulders and turning in the direction of Suna. “I’m the one that should be- that should...” He trailed off into a frustrated grunt, supporting Sandaime’s weight as they slowly began the trek through the sand.

“I don’t blame you for getting upset.” Sandaime denied, shaking his head. “This isn’t the outcome I wanted for this either, you know. I expected you to try to kill me.”

“Perhaps you’re not as lax of a Kage as I thought, then.” Sasori grumbled, shaking his bangs from his vision. “I’ll have to disappear for a while; if you could do me the favor of thinking up some nonsense mission that I could vanish for, that would be appreciated.”

“Why would you have to disappear?” Sandaime asked, confused, and cursed as he stumbled a little in the sand.

“Because I actually almost _did_ assassinate you.” Sasori slowed his pace.

“Oh, that. Let me handle that, I’m plenty skilled at applying a specific tilt to stories.” Sandaime smirked. “Follow my direction and there won’t be any issues.”

And a drastic tilt he did have- from the moment they reached Suna’s borders and attracted the attention of panicked scouts, Sandaime immediately began spinning the tale of how he’d been lured out by someone claiming to have seen a suspicious missing-nin prowling Suna’s borders, and had walked into a trap instead. He’d taken out many on his own, but it was thanks to the quick actions of the puppet master with him (“Thank goodness he was out on break searching for scorpions to harvest for venom, luck was surely on our side!”) that he’d escaped with only the injury on his side.

Sasori tried to excuse himself at the flurry of activity, but Sandaime insisted that his ‘newest addition to the Kazekage’s Guard’ remain with him. He stayed, intently observing the medical procedure for his injury and then standing in the corner of the room when various politicians were allowed in to express their condolences and proclaim their intentions to catch the ones responsible for the assassination attempt.

It seemed like hours before they were alone again. Sandaime was leaning back in his hospital bed, chest bare save for the bandages and hair loose, and he looked... no more tired than any other day. Sasori drew close, frowning and reaching out to brush his hair back from his forehead. “Why don’t you look worse? You should look like hell right now.”

“Well, I guess things could be worse, so I’ll look that way when they do.” Sandaime turned his head to kiss Sasori’s palm, gazing at him. “Why do you look so upset, dear one? Do you think someone didn’t buy the story?”

“No, I’m sure they did.”

“Are you not satisfied with the medical staff?”

“No, to my knowledge they treated the wound adequately.”

“Then what is it, Sasori?” Sandaime beckoned him closer so he could cup his face in his hands.

“You. I could have killed you. And you’re treating me no differently than before.” Sasori’s frown didn’t abate, despite the Kazekage’s attempts at soothing touches.

“Our relationship began with an attempt on my life. I wouldn’t call this much different.” Sandaime teased a little.

“It is because I caused you lasting harm.” Sasori waved a hand at his side. “Didn’t you hear the doctor? That will scar.” He’d left permanent damage on his lover’s beautiful bronze skin.

“I’ve spent my life as a ninja. I am no stranger to scars.” Sandaime pointed out, shaking his head.

“Scars from your enemies maybe, but from your- from people like me?” Sasori challenged. He was never sure what to call himself and Sandaime. A loved one seemed too intimate (and Sasori doubted this could be called love anyway.) Boyfriend seemed juvenile, and lover was close but seemed just a smidge too gentle. ‘Mine’ and ‘yours’ has sufficed until now.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sandaime shook his head. “Everything has turned out well enough. I don’t see much of a point in dwelling on what-if’s.”

Sasori’s frown didn’t lessen- if anything, it deepened. “You forgive too readily for a man in your position.” He grumbled. Surely, somewhere along the way Sandaime had lost his marbles. “Why do you trust me? I’ve never given you reason to.”

“Because of all the times you could have killed me, and instead chose not to.” Sandaime answered, stroking his thumb across Sasori’s cheek.

“My reasons were entirely selfish.” Sasori didn’t falter. “You must know that.”

“Everything between us has been selfish for both of us. That doesn’t necessarily imply that it is somehow wrong.” Sandaime countered with a shake of his head. “Doing something for your own wants isn’t bad.”

“A shinobi’s wants should never come first.”

“We aren’t shinobi in this. We are human, and to want is in the nature of a human.” Sandaime reasoned.

“I’ve never been more than a shinobi. Maybe you have, but from the moment I was born, that’s all I’ve ever known.” Sasori denied. All he knew was how to be a tool of Suna’s wars. And now he was a tool that had turned on its master, but the master still somehow wanted him. “The very day I learned of my affinity for puppetry, it was made clear that my talents were not my own to use. I was to be a tool for Suna, and that was it. Everything I was, was second to what Suna wanted me to be.”

Sandaime sighed, closing his eyes and letting his head thud back onto the pillows of the hospital bed as he dropped his hands from Sasori’s face. “Must you always be so dramatic, dear one?”

“That’s really all you have to say?”

“You’re missing the point. You can be both, that’s all I’m saying. We’re shinobi, but at the end of the day, we’re also just human. The shinobi side of me has known from the start that our relationship would never be easy, but the human side knew it would be worth it.”

“And?”

“Are you being obtuse on purpose? I’ve had a very long day, you know.” Sandaime frowned, eyes still closed. “I sat through hours of board meetings, was informed that I would be marrying a woman I don’t know for the good of our village, had to break that news to you, got _stabbed_, sat through medical procedures and even more talking with the council members, and now have to deal with your purposeful ignorance. Even my patience has limits.”

“Oh, forgive me. That sounds very troublesome.” Sasori’s response absolutely oozed sarcasm. “Not at all the sorts of responsibilities you would expect, being the Kazekage, hm?”

“Are you trying to anger me, Sasori?”

“Perhaps!” Sasori snapped, clenching his fists. “After everything I’ve done, you’ve never so much as told me off! You’re the leader of the Sand Village, you could have anybody, anything! But you put up with me, and everything I’ve done to you- why?!” Sasori had not intended to say as much as he did, but when the seal was broken, he ended up spitting out the question that had nagged him since the moment he had stabbed the Kazekage.

“You think you’re the only one who enjoyed what we had?” Sandaime opened his eyes again, frowning up at him. “I am, arguably, the most powerful ninja in the village. Few dare disagree with me, even fewer dare stand in direct, staunch opposition. I’m surrounded by people who bow to my decisions, who switch their opinions and beliefs to match my own in the hopes of winning my favor. It grates on me like you wouldn’t believe. But you challenge me. You don’t bend, you don’t waver or scramble to agree with me, just because of who I am. You’re a talented and powerful ninja, to be sure, but that’s secondary to your wit and your intelligence, when you’re not being dense intentionally.” He cracked a smile. “Your beauty is also certainly no small factor.”

“You put up with me because I’m pretty.” Sasori replied flatly, although he couldn’t stop his face from heating.

“Ah, there we go- the ‘intentionally dense’ shows itself once again.” Sandaime smiled, shaking his head. “Not just that, the rest of it too. Perhaps you sought me out because of my deeds as a Kage, but since then you’ve treated me as more of a human than anything else.”

“You’re more a fool than human.” Sasori denied, though he stepped close to the side of Sandaime’s bed to reach over and stroke his hair back.

“And I’ve been called a fool for far worse things than loving someone.” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “Ah, but I think I must call it a night. Can I trust my newest member of my guard to keep watch throughout the night?”

Sasori swallowed past the unexpected lump in his throat to respond. “You really think that’s wise?”

“Of course I do. And if I somehow meet my mysterious death throughout the night, then I’ll rest easy knowing your face is the last thing I saw.” Sandaime shifted a little to settle more comfortably under the thin hospital sheets, closing his eyes. “Goodnight, Sasori.”

“Goodnight, Lord Third.” Sasori stepped away from his bedside to lean back against the wall, mind churning throughout the rest of the night as he kept a silent watch.

-

Being on the Kazekage’s watch was a new and irritating experience for Sasori. Sure, it was only certain shifts he needed to be present for, but it took precious time away from his art. He needed to attend debriefings even when he wasn’t scheduled to be with the Kage, just so he would be alert and ready if called, and often did get called away from his duties in the puppet corps. The plus side was that he got to see Sandaime more often; the downside was that the guard members were supposed to fade into the shadows, not interact with the Kage in any way.

The biggest downside Sasori had to endure was the Kazekage’s wedding. Naturally, the guard was to be present for such a public event. The size of the ceremony meant a substantial briefing on security formations, the possibility of threats, and the like- all of those minor irritations were ones Sasori was quite prepared to deal with. The part he loathed was having to watch Sandaime marry.

He hated every moment of the event, from the jarring music to the sweltering sun to the oppressive crowds. He stayed as out of sight as he could manage, watching the woman approach his Kazekage. She was a horribly plain thing, with ashy blonde hair and an utterly unremarkable face. Sasori couldn’t be bothered to keep the sneer from his face- this was really the best this pathetic tribe had to offer? There was no way this could be worth it. (Sure, the woman was supposed to harbor some power or other, but it couldn’t be anything like the Iron Sand.)

But the Kazekage was a splendid actor- if Sasori hadn’t known to the contrary, his smile would have seemed genuine. The declarations and pleasantries of the ceremony went in one ear and out the other- peace this, unity that, it was all a farce. Sasori couldn’t wait for it to end. Once the vows were exchanged and the union made official, Sasori felt it fine to return his attention to scanning the crowds with a little less urgency. Perhaps now that the ceremony was over, it could be fun to make an attempt on the pair himself- but what fun would it be to kill such a feeble opponent as his wife? Ugh. Even thinking of the word wife made the bile rise in Sasori’s throat.

He occupied himself with idly imagining various ways to poison the woman as the celebration dragged on- he was not normally one to indulge in alcohol, but he found himself wishing this had been a shorter shift so he could go home and slow the workings of his brain by drowning it in drink. Their plan- to continue their clandestine relationship with even greater secrecy than before- had seemed fine when they were discussing their options in the privacy of the Kazekage’s office. But now that Sasori was watching the celebration of the Kazekage’s marriage, the notion seemed sillier with every passing minute. How would they find time, realistically? How would they find secrecy? Where would they even go, that the Kazekage could avoid attention? Sasori could no longer rely on the solitude of the Kage’s quarters, not now that he had a silly wife to keep happy.

The thought crossed his mind that the two would consummate their marriage that night, and Sasori felt an actual wave of nausea hit him- he stepped out of his hiding place for a moment, scowling, and grabbed the arm of a passing attendant long enough to stall him and snatch a flute of champagne from the tray he held. He shoved the man away again (ignoring his frightened yelp,) and tipped the glass back to empty it in one go. That wretch- that unworthy, simpering, stupid woman- was going to touch what was rightfully Sasori’s. There was no doubt in his mind, he was going to kill her. Sooner or later. He glared at the ground, hating the burn the alcohol left in his throat and hating even more the burn in his eyes.

“Drinking on the job?” Sandaime’s voice cut through the haze of anger that was Sasori’s mind, and his gaze snapped upward. It was unfair, how good the man looked in his Sunan wedding robes. He wore a little smile, a smile that Sasori smugly realized was just for him. “I came to thank you for doing a good job in keeping the ceremony safe.”

His words were light and largely impersonal- Sasori knew that anybody could see or hear them, so the precaution was necessary- but the look in his eyes as he held out his hand to Sasori said what he couldn’t. There was want, need, sorrow, and more burning in his amber gaze. Sasori was sure similar emotions were reflected in his own as he took the Kage’s hand and shook it.

“It is my pleasure, to keep our leader safe.” He murmured, bowing his head to kiss the knuckles of the Kazekage’s hand. He peeked up through his bangs as he continued, “I wish you all the best for your relationship. May your heart find happiness in knowing you’ve secured the safety of many people on this day.”

“Oh, my heart has known much happiness.” A subtle squeeze to Sasori’s hand before he released it. “It eases me, knowing there are such capable men so close should I need them.”

“If you need me, I am only a command away.” Sasori kept his head bowed despite the low, smoldering burn that had settled in his chest. “Say the word, and I will be there.” He didn’t even need to speak a word; Sasori was his already.

“I know, and I take comfort in it.” Sandaime smiled, patting Sasori’s shoulder. “I must be going back- there are many that are after me today, though only for such mundane things like talk. Take care, poppet. I will see you again soon.”

“Yes, my lord.” Sasori kept his gaze trained on the ground as Sandaime had to leave, keeping his fists clenched tightly at his sides. If he had dared look up and met his eyes again, he would have been gone. The self control Sasori had crafted and maintained so carefully would have snapped, and he feared what he might have done. Only when the footsteps of the Kage had faded did Sasori look up to watch his figure retreat to the crowd again, to witness the foolish woman return to his arm and the politicians circle around him.

How satisfying it would be, to rip the scrolls from his back and summon forth his puppets. He longed to send them on, to toss away the fools surrounding his lover and to declare that no one else could have him, consequences be damned. But Sasori had never been a man who operated on bursts of emotion- he stayed still, content with the bloodshed in his imagination as the sun set and the party slowly came to a close. He stayed hidden until the Kazekage and his new wife left the party, returning to the solitude of his own home.

His own hand was a laughable substitute for the touch of the one he longed for, so Sasori didn’t even try. He laid awake in the darkness, gazing at the ceiling. With every cool breeze that gusted through his bedroom window, he tried to turn his mind away from what he imagined to be happening right then. That idiot of a woman, unaware of how Sasori would kill to be in her place as the newlyweds consummated their marriage. She got to lie beside his Kazekage and sleep soundly, and if someone came to the two of them in the morning, it would be no larger trouble than awakening any other man and wife. She would be able to go out with him in public, to visit him at work, and attend Kage summits at his side. That wretch got to kiss him, to receive his affections, they would undoubtedly have at least one child together-

Sasori swiped his sleeve across his eyes angrily and tossed his sheets back, getting up and storming to his studio. Enough of those thoughts. Until his mind cleared, he would work on a poison for his imaginary assassination of the Kazekage’s wife.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t sleep that night.

-

Two weeks later, Sasori reviewed the shift assignments for the Kazekage’s guard. “Why are the shifts for this weekend split in such a way?” He asked, indicating the day and nights. “The Kage and his wife each get a guard...?”

Suki, the leader of the guard, raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you hear? His wife is making a trip back to her home tribe this weekend. She’ll be accompanied by a guard member for her own safety, and those of us remaining in Suna will take double shifts to guard the Kazekage. We don’t expect much to happen within Suna’s walls, so the Kazekage deemed it safe enough to disrupt the normal guard patterns and give the remaining guards a slight break. Sorry you got stuck with the overnight shifts.”

Sasori’s face remained impassive as he scanned the upcoming weekend’s guard rotation. “Oh, I’ll manage somehow.” Friday night and Saturday night were both solo shifts. All night long. Just him and Sandaime. “Thank you for the heads-up. I’ll be there on time.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Punctual. That’s all for the day, you’re dismissed.” Suki waved his hand. “Say hi to the rest of the Puppet Corps for me.”

“Mmhm.” Sasori left immediately, gears turning rapidly in his mind. Friday. Friday that wretched woman would be gone and he would be alone with Sandaime.

Friday was three days away still.

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't get to write Sasori as a human very much- him grappling with humanity is a fun process to write. Had to make up a lot for the Third, too. But it was a good time and this definitely wasn't inspired by a binge of artworks and writing pieces I found about these two. Not at all. If you want some mood music to listen to while reading, Cryoshell's "Nature Girl" for the first half and Sasori's theme for the Kazekage's death were what I used.  
-  
Alternate way that conversation between Sasori and Sandaime could've gone:  
Sasori: I wish I wasn't human.  
Sandaime: We are just........ litle creachers. Thatse It. We Canot change this.


End file.
